


The Witch of Varas

by ThePlaceboEffects



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: (in a flashback), Allusions to past marital rape, Alternate Universe, F/F, FTL AU, He holds no importance to the plot, Hook is mentioned exactly two times, One Shot, Red Warrior is mentioned in passing, SwanQueen Supernova, Young Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Young Emma Swan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-06 18:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8763364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePlaceboEffects/pseuds/ThePlaceboEffects
Summary: In a fairytale world, where true love is rare, and love is a curse, Emma Swan, the White Knight of the Enchanted Forest decides enough is enough. Venturing to the top of Mount Varas, where the witch who cursed the kingdom is rumored to live, Emma finds that killing the witch and breaking the curse isn’t as easy as she thought.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rexinasofia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rexinasofia/gifts).



> I’ve _maybe_ been writing this since… April 2015 (with huge breaks) so thank you to the Supernova team for this event, which kicked my ass into finishing this.
> 
> ALSO: A HUGE thank you to my friend/twitter wife Jaye ([ughaghost](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ughaghost)) for giving me the idea for the last like… 40% of my fic? I couldn’t have done it without you :D
> 
> One final thank you goes out to [rexinasofia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rexinasofia) for her beautiful cover art, I'm absolutely in love! 
> 
> Unbeta’d: all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Enjoy!

It seemed like forever since anyone had lived happily ever after. Emma Swan had been engaged to marry Killian Jones, and honestly, she thought he was the one, until a ship of sea bandits docked by their home and he ran off with a pirate woman named Anne, to let his sword fall where it may, killing everyone in their path. Until then, Emma hadn’t believed in the curse. She thought that her love was strong enough to see past it, and that her relationship wouldn’t fail, as everyone else's does. It turned out, it wasn’t _her_ love that ended up being the problem; Killian ended up being the one affected by the curse, and it was his love that died. Emma was never sure if it was really love that he felt for her, or possessiveness, or infatuation, but she felt wanted, and she thrived on that. Emma thought that being the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, the product of true love, the most powerful magic in all the realms, guaranteed her happy ending, but it turned out she was subject to the same fate as everyone else. There was no happiness in anyone’s future, at least not until someone killed the witch.

 

It is said that there is a witch who lives in the highest cave of Mount Varas, lurking in the darkest corner near a river that runs uphill, who, having lost her love, takes it upon herself to ruin budding relationships by darkening the heart of the one whose love is the strongest so that they may never love again. Many had tried to kill the witch in the past, but none who made the journey up the mountain had ever made it down, and stories had gotten around that their souls had been sucked out of their bodies, their despair being used to fuel the witch’s unrelenting curse.

 

Emma Swan, having sworn off love, renouncing her Princess title and dedicating herself to become the best knight in the land, rose in skill until she was known to all as the best warrior in the Enchanted Forest. With a crown of golden hair and armor so white it nearly blinded those who looked directly at it, she came to be known as The White Knight. Emma took it upon herself to finally be the one to bring back the happy endings.

 

*     *     *

 

On the eve of her twenty-eighth birthday, Emma sat surrounded by a small group of family and friends around a dying fire as she stared into the night sky. A star went out, as it does ever so often, an indicator that another love had died. She sighed as her gaze returned to the people around her. “This has to stop. It doesn't bother any of you that the stars are going out?”

 

“You know we’ll be long gone before all the stars burn out, we might as well enjoy our lives.” Red sat across from Emma, and pulled her crimson cloak closer to her body, warding off the chill that was starting to set in. “What would happen if all they all burned out anyways?"

 

Emma shrugged. “We’d learn to appreciate the sun that much more.”

 

“But what’s a life without love?” Snow chimed in and snuggled closer to her husband, one of the last true love couples left in the land.

 

Emma raised an eyebrow. “In my experience? A hell-of-a-lot more successful. Don’t take it the wrong way mom, but love is rare as it is. Children will still be born into loveless marriages, and the world will keep on turning. Love complicates things.”

 

“Oh Emma, you’ve become so cynical. You used to be so much happier and full of life. Love is so beautiful, and I know you’ve made your choice, but if you just opened you heart-” Snow was cut off when Emma raised a hand.

 

“I know I used to laugh more. I used to dance and sing and be more _pleasant_ , but that doesn’t even feel like me anymore. I opened my heart once before and look what it got me. But you know what...” Emma stood up and dusted her pants off. Her face was illuminated by the fading reds and oranges coming from the fire, which made her statement sound more ominous than she probably intended. “I’m going to fix this.”

 

Red sat up bolt-straight. “Come again?”

 

“I’m going to go to Mount Varas, and I’m going to kill the witch. If I make it down, great. If not well... the world keeps turning, right?”

 

“Honey you can’t do this!” Snow jumped up and closed the distance between her and her daughter. “You’d be digging your own grave, and laying down in it willingly!”

 

“So? Don’t I do that anyways? What use is being a knight if I can’t fight for the good of others?” Snow opened her mouth to speak again but Emma stopped her. “It’s not up for debate. At first light I’m leaving the castle, I’m going to find that witch, and I’m going to carve her heart out of her chest.” Her face softened at her next words. “Thanks for doing this whole birthday thing, it was nice. I miss being outside and just doing simple things, you know? Before all the palace and royalty stuff, it was nice to get back to this.” She kissed her mother and father on the cheek. “Goodnight.”

 

Emma walked away from the small crowd before they could try to stop her, and made her way back to her chambers to prepare for the journey she had committed to taking.

 

*     *     *

 

As the sun crested over the horizon signaling the start of a new day, Emma made good on her word. She was mounted on her horse, Everest, with all the castle’s inhabitants by the gates to wish her good luck. Emma’s sword was firmly in its sheath, and her saddlebags were filled with rations for weeks, although Mount Varas was only a sun cycle’s ride away. Snow broke through the crowd and handed Emma a small bottle with a glowing purple liquid.

 

“I know you don’t approve of magic and prefer to rely on your sword, but I thought you’d want this. I got the fairies to put together some incredibly potent fairy dust infused with Nightshade and the venom of an Agrabahn Viper that can help you bring down the witch. Throw it in her direction, and as long as your intent is true, it will turn her to stone where she stands.”

 

Emma’s mouth opened to speak, a thousand comebacks forming on her tongue before her mother spoke again. “Just... put your mother’s heart at ease a little?” She gave Emma a weak smile.

 

“Thanks mom.”

 

“And you know where you’re going?”

 

Emma gave a firm nod before squeezing the sides of her horse with her legs, and setting off into the forest.

 

As she made her way through the woods, the leaves crunching under Everest’s hooves was the only thing that broke the deafening silence. She kept thinking she saw strange shadows lurking just out of sight, moving in the corner of her eye, but whenever she turned to look, it was gone. After she had travelled for hours with nary a consequence accompanying the veiled shadows, Emma chalked it up to nerves and paranoia, and gave them no further thought. The underbrush got thicker as she made her way deeper into the forest, and the trail she was traveling slowly disappeared, until the hope of a beaten path became nothing more than a pipe dream.

 

The trees overhead grew thicker and the air became more stagnant; there was only the stray beams of sunlight, the crunch of leaves underfoot, and the smell of decay to keep Emma’s company. Taking a steadying breath, and hoping it was dead animals who had strayed too far, and not people like her who’d become far too lost to ever be saved, she began to whistle a tune to herself to bring some noise into the otherwise still forest. She had the sneaking suspicion someone was watching her, but look as she did, the unrelenting shadows only stared back.

 

She had been wandering through the woods for hours, the conversation with Red playing through her mind over and over again. “What happens when all the stars go out” she’d said, and Emma couldn’t stop thinking about it.

 

The abysmal sunlight that had been filtering through the leaves began to fade, and Emma took that as a signal to set up camp for the night. If she had been put off by the silence before, she wished for it now, as the forest floor was alive with glowing eyes and chirp-happy cicadas. She stared up at the sky, a few stars peeking through the foliage. She blinked, and another star went out. After ripping some bread from the loaf her mother had baked that morning and offering some to her horse, she settled onto the damp ground and waited for fatigue to overtake her, with the sounds of Everest lapping at water from a nearby stream lulling her into a dreamless sleep.

 

*     *     *

 

Emma awoke to a mosquito sucking at her face. Bleary eyed and not fully conscious, her foggy mind decided the best course of action was to swiftly slap herself across the face, gauntlets and all.

 

She blinked the spots out of her eyes and shook her head. “Okay, I’m awake _now_.” She mumbled to no one in particular as she hoisted herself off the dewy ground. She walked over to where Everest was standing and ran her hands through his mane. “Morning sunshine.” Her horse whinnied in response, nuzzling his face into Emma’s hand. She pulled her hair out of its ponytail, mounted her horse, and continued her journey in what she hoped was the right direction.

 

A sliver of supernal light poked through the mist. It was followed by a whole loom of light, filtering down in seams of gold, beckoning Emma forward. As if the light was spurned from the Gods themselves, it chased the shadows away, banished the gloom and spilled into spaces where the fog once reigned supreme. Up ahead, the trees were thinning out, and Emma felt a cool breeze coming through the gaps in the foliage, ruffling her hair. She was nearly at the edge of the forest, and the thought of no longer being surrounded by trees and bugs prompted her to pick up her pace.

 

When she finally came through the forest on the other side, she was surprised at what she saw. Emma had been told that Mount Varas was the tallest mountain located at the Spine of the World, but she hadn’t expected it to be so literal. There was a chain of oddly symmetrical mountains that neatly bisected the land, and it didn’t take much assessment to discern which one was Mount Varas. There was a summit, both darker and taller than the rest of the surrounding mountains, the peak hidden above the clouds; Emma knew it was time to ditch her horse and continue the journey on foot.

 

“If I’m not back by day’s end tomorrow, go home.” She planted a kiss on the horse’s nose, who only snorted in response. She took enough rations to last her four days, and set off towards the foot of the mountain.

 

Staring up at the summit she was intended to climb, Emma considered turning around and accepting that there were things that even she couldn’t do. That thought quickly left her mind though, and she started her ascent up to the peak of Mount Varas. As she made her way up the mountain, Emma soon regretted wearing armor, and longed for the airy comfort of clothing. The sun beat down on her, with naught a cloud to filter it’s rays, and she felt as though she was a walking stone oven. The path in front of her that wound up the mountain seemed to go on forever, and Emma was starting to believe that all those who supposedly tried to slay the witch before her had actually burned to death from the sun.

 

Each plodding step took more and more effort as she progressed higher up the mountain. The air was getting thinner the farther she got from the ground, and each breath was a struggle, as if there was someone sitting on her chest daring her to collapse. Her oxygen-deprived muscles began to ache, which didn’t help Emma’s motivation in the slightest. She decided a quick sit-down would do more good than harm, and took the time to take in the view.

 

The kingdom sprawled out as far as she could see, far past the horizon’s edge, and it looked simply magnificent. It made sense why the witch chose this mountaintop as her perch, watching over the misery she'd created with a sort of twisted glee. It’s not that you could see the sadness, but you could feel it. She supposed if you were going to dedicate your life to thriving off of people’s unhappiness, this wasn’t a horrible place to do it from. Looking down to the ground below, Emma sighed. She’d have to make her way back down the mountain at some point (that is, if the witch didn’t kill her first).

 

She heaved herself up off the ground, summoning all the willpower she had, and then some, to continue her trek up to the peak of the summit.

 

*     *     *

 

Emma finally made it to the top with no less than a few choice words directed at the mountain as if it could hear and sympathize with her struggles. When she approached the mouth of the cave, she almost turned tail and ran home;  adorning the front of the cave was no less than twenty skulls in various stages of degradation, and they were undoubtedly human. Ancient white rocks marked the edge of the path at staggered intervals. Intricate carvings that might be words decorated each one, but Emma wasn’t sure there was a man left alive who could read them. Not wishing to become another trophy for the witch’s cave, Emma reached into her bag, and held the fairy dust that her mother had gifted to her a little tighter.

 

She picked up a torch that had been discarded by the cave’s entrance, possibly by a knight just like her who had decided against facing the witch. Or perhaps, she mused, they were one of the skulls by the cave’s entrance, and this was all that remained of them. Nonetheless, Emma took her tinderbox from her bag, and lit the torch. She entered the cave, and after she turned the first corner, sunlight ceased to illuminate the path in front of her, with nothing but the small fire in her hands lighting the way.

 

No one has to be taught to fear the dark. Some people believe that there is nothing out there, in the darkness, that they need fear.  Emma believed those people were full of shit. The darkness pressed in around her, seeping into her lungs until she felt like she couldn't breathe. Her free hand trailed along the cave wall, not trusting that there wasn’t something bloodcurdlingly terrifying lurking just beyond the light of her torch. When Emma turned another corner, she came to a corridor lined with mirrors. The fire from the torch bounced between the mirrors, brightening the path in front of her as if it itself was on fire. If she stared into the mirrors long enough, she began to see what wasn’t there; phantom eyes that didn’t belong to her, animals with rows upon rows of sharp teeth dancing in the places of her vision where she couldn’t quite see them. Blinking away her paranoia, she continued down the mirrored hallway until she came across small incline, a stream, and a cavern so dark it seemed to absorb light itself.

 

It took Emma a few seconds to register what she was seeing, but when she connected the dots, it was undeniable. There was a river running uphill, in what could possibly be the darkest place in all the realms, which meant one thing only – the witch was near, and very, _very_ real. Something was waiting for her in the dark. It started as a prickling feeling on the back of her neck. The type that makes you acutely aware that someone, or something, is watching you. She had half expected to explore the cave and not find anything except rocks and excess dampness, but alas, luck was never really on her side. It was while Emma stood there cursing her bad luck that she heard a faint whooshing sound like a gust of wind, and then the cavern in front of her wasn’t so dark anymore.

 

Everything dances, but nothing dances quite like fire, and it was clear that the glow was coming towards her, and not from the torch she had firmly grasped in her hand. The faint clicking that accompanied the fire’s growing closeness was drowned out by the sound of Emma’s heart thudding relentlessly in her ears. Instinctively, Emma drew her sword and pointed it towards the growing orange glow. And that’s when she saw her.

 

Emma had been expecting an old hag, paler than parchment, and made gaunt and nearly unsightly from the lack of exposure to the outside world. Instead, emerging from the darkness was a woman with fire in her eyes (and more importantly, in her hand) dressed far too nicely to live in a cave, with a dress of velvet worth far more than half the kingdom’s wardrobe combined, and a lustrous crown of brown hair that would put the finest hardwood to shame. She walked with darkness dripping off her shoulders, wearing shadows like armor, and that fire? The witch had hurled the fireball towards her head, which Emma had avoided by a hair’s breadth, before it exploded on the wall behind her, lighting a line of torches she hadn’t previously been able to see.

 

It was only when the chamber was properly lit for the first time did Emma get a decent look at the woman. She reminded Emma of the sea; the way she came flitting towards you, wild and beautiful, and when she was almost close enough to touch she’d rush away again; just out of reach, back into the shadows where the light didn’t quite reach. The woman spoke from the darkness. “Well what do we have here?” And her voice? Her voice could sink ships. It was smooth enough that you felt safe, yet you could hear the venom in it, luring you into its depths.

 

“You.” Emma held her sword tighter and struggled to find words. “You’re the Evil Queen. The one my parents took the kingdom from. _You’re_ the witch?”

 

“And you’re the jewel of the realm, Emma Swan. Daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. In love with a fiery young man, weren’t you? But then, oh no, he left you for the pirate woman.” She pouted in a passable impression of despondency. “Sad isn’t it? How they leave?”

 

Emma was taken aback, and lowered her sword without thinking. “How did you know all that?”

 

The Queen chuckled. “Well you don’t think I’d hole myself up in here without a way to personally keep track of everyone, do you?”

 

“How?”

 

The Queen tsked. “I’m not going to give up all my secrets that easily, we’ve only just met. Besides, I haven’t decided if you’re leaving this cave alive yet, and I can’t have you running off and telling all the Queen’s men my secrets.”

 

Emma inhaled sharply, but the Queen continued. “Many have come seeking me, but you’re the only one who’s actually entered the cave. I suppose I should applaud you for that.”

 

The blonde felt herself getting pulled into the Queen’s games, but she was powerless to resist. "What about the literal pile of skulls at the entrance of the cave?"

 

"Oh, that?” The Queen plucked a piece of nonexistent lint from her dress. “Just décor. Keeps the cowards away."

 

Emma rolled her eyes. “You know, it’s a real delicate balance being both threatening and nonchalant at the same time. Honestly, I respect you for it.”

 

The Queen hummed appreciatively. “Now.” The witch began to close the distance between herself and Emma, and the air around Emma grew heavy. “What are we going to do with you?”

 

Emma shook her head, clearing the fog that had settled over her mind. Raising her sword again, she held it to the witch’s neck, in an attempt to wipe the smirk off her face. “ _You_ are going to give back our happy endings, and then _I_ am going to leave.”

 

The Queen tilted her head ever so slightly before waving her hand, making Emma’s sword disappear in a puff of purple smoke. Emma’s jaw slackened as the witch’s eyes darkened with anger. With surprising strength (or maybe just magic), she took Emma’s neck into a vice grip and slammed her against the wall. “I can’t tell if you’re brave” she sneered, stepping into Emma’s personal space. “Or just stupid. Let’s try that again.”

 

“Um...” Emma coughed, and the Queen loosened the grip she had on Emma’s windpipe a nearly imperceptible amount, but it was enough to provide her lungs with some much-needed air. “You’re going to give back our happy endings... please?” As the blonde spoke, the Queen’s gaze darted between her bright blue eyes, and her lips that seemed far too soft for someone with her ‘devil-may-care’ attitude.

 

“Funny. See, I don’t _want_ to kill you, I’ve grown awfully lonely with nothing but my mirrors to keep my company, but you’re making it incredibly difficult to tolerate you.” The Queen finally released Emma’s neck entirely.

 

The blonde smirked, rubbing her neck to help it regain circulation. “But isn’t it my abrasive personality that endears you to me, just a little?” Emma took the Queen’s moment of contemplation to flip her around so she was against the wall, putting her armored arm across the Queen’s throat. “Because I figure, if I was really that irritating, you would’ve offed me already. Admit it, you like me.”

 

The brunette scoffed. “Gods, spending any amount of time with you and dying feel like very similar things, but at least death comes with relief.”

 

Emma stepped back. “Wow, that is so rude.”

 

The witch quirked an eyebrow. "Considering you've come to kill me, I don't feel compelled to be particularly kind."

 

“Killing you isn’t my goal...” Emma trailed off. “What the hell is your name anyways? I feel like that’s something I should know.”

 

“Regina.”

 

“Regina.” Emma repeated back, feeling the name on her tongue like it was a fine wine. “Reg _ina_...Why does that sound familiar?”

 

“Because I’m the Queen?” Regina offered.

 

“Was. But no, that’s not it.” It was when the fire on the wall danced across the Queen's face in just the right way that it caught the scar on her upper lip, and a memory long forgotten slammed into Emma's consciousness. They had crossed paths before. Before she was evil and had made it her mission to destroy everyone's happiness. Back when Regina was only a girl who was a pawn in too many people's games, before she got tired of being played with, and built herself up to become the nefarious, notorious, Evil Queen.

 

She'd like to say she never forgot her, but years had passed and her 'now' slowly crowded out their 'then,’ and there’s a good chance that she would have never thought of her again, if it hadn’t been for this moment.

 

*     *     *

 

**12 Years Prior**

Emma had left home earlier that year in pursuit of adventure. Her parents constantly talked of taking back the kingdom, and Emma had grown bored of their grandiose speeches without much action to back them up. She all but said ‘good luck with that’ and set off for something new. So of course, she ended up a barmaid. She had been wiping up a table after one of her usual clients when a beautiful woman not much older than her walked in. She came in wearing a light blue riding outfit, with loose brown curls cascading down her back. After making eye contact with Emma, she held up a finger, signaling her desire for a drink.

 

“I’m sorry my lady, we’re closing up for tonight.”

 

“Oh.” The woman deflated, and Emma’s heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t a huge inconvenience to pour this woman a drink, so she relented.

 

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to pout about it. One drink. Don’t make a mess.” Emma went behind the bar, and came back with a pitcher of ale, which gave the woman enough time to remove her riding gloves, and sit down at the table that Emma had just cleaned.

 

“So, what brings a lady like you around these parts?”

 

The woman smiled. “I’m not a lady.”

 

Emma scoffed and sat down across from her, and the woman raised an eyebrow. “Please. Your leather riding boots are smoother than butter.” Emma picked up one of the woman’s hands in her own. “Plus, one look at these hands and anyone can tell they’ve never seen a day of hard work. So, what’s your name ‘not-a-lady?’”

 

The woman played with a piece of her hair absentmindedly. “Um... Ina.”

 

Emma tilted her hair in consideration. “See, I have this instinct, I call it a magic power. I can tell when people are lying, and you definitely are. But... there must be some reason you won’t tell me your real name, so I’ll respect that... Ina it is.”

 

Regina smiled and let out a small sigh of relief. “And you?”

 

“Anna.”

 

The brunette hummed appreciatively. “So, Anna, how did you end up working at a tavern? You seem a bit young.”

 

The sound of Emma’s not-quite-name on this woman’s lips made her skin tingle. “Typical story. My parents bored me, so I left in search of the next great thing. It turns out ‘adventure’ isn’t as easy to find as I thought, but hey, this is fun too.” She laughed. “You meet some interesting people as a barmaid, and who knows,” she shifted on the bench, tucking her skirt under her, “maybe some great explorer will pass through looking for a flaxen haired girl who can swing a sword, and then I’ll be gone like the wind.”

 

“That sounds nice.” Ina was still twirling a piece of hair around her finger.

 

“You never answered my first question.” Emma smiled at the woman, trying to get her to open up. “I know just about everyone who lives around here, and most of them frequent this tavern often. I know I wouldn’t forget a face like yours, so what brought you into my tavern on this fine evening, so far from home?”

 

Ina dropped her hands to her lap as a faint blush rose to her cheeks, but still, she didn’t meet Emma’s gaze. “Same as you I suppose.” She finally looked up at the piercing blue eyes that were studying her from across the table. “Have you ever felt like your life was suffocating you, and if you didn’t get out you might just die? Like everything manages to be too much and not enough all at the same time?” Emma nodded, all too familiar with the feeling. “That’s why I’m here, far from home where no one knows my face, my name, or my family.”

 

Emma sat in awe at how the woman in front of her could so easily put into words the feelings that fueled her leaving her parents and old life behind.

 

“Well, you don’t have to worry about any of that here. However, we really _are_ closed, so unless you’d like to stay the night...” Ina choked on her ale. “I meant lodging! I wasn’t trying to proposition you or anything.” Emma rolled her eyes.

 

“Oh...” she appeared to mull over the barmaid’s offer. “I really should be getting back, people will start to wonder where I’ve gotten off to. But... I’ll see you around?”

 

“Sure.” Emma got up, taking Ina’s now empty pitcher with her. “You know where to find me.”

 

The brunette came back several times after that night, getting to know ‘Anna’ as their conversations went later and later into the night, to the point where she didn’t even bother taking her horse to the tavern, opting for more instantaneous transportation, (her magic was getting better, she only ended up getting horribly lost once in a blue moon). They grew closer, until one night, amongst musings of loneliness and an unfulfilled life, Emma kissed her.

 

Her lips tasted like sunshine and whiskey, and felt like the finest velvet. The brunette’s heart thudded under her corset, threatening to burst out of her chest.

 

She kissed Emma back, the first kiss she had truly wanted in what felt like ages. It wasn’t rough, it wasn’t demanding, it wasn’t invasive. It was a euphoria she never thought she’d feel again; like rain after a drought, like a million fairies dancing in the night sky, to want, and be wanted was an amazing feeling.

 

When she got back to the castle much later than was deemed appropriate for a lady, her husband noticed the spring in her step, the smile on her face and the slight smudge to her lipstick. In a fit of rage, the King ordered her to be locked in her room whenever he wasn’t around, so she never did get to see the barmaid again. It was years before Regina killed her husband and won her freedom back, and by then Anna was nothing more than a distant memory of time gone by. Even if she had gone back to the tavern, Anna wouldn’t have been there; Anna was engaged to be married at this point, and no longer worked at the tavern. A small part of her didn’t think Anna would have wanted to see what she had become anyways.

 

*     *     *

 

**Present Day**

“We’ve met. You came into a tavern I worked at, The Gryphon’s Perch. I uh...” Emma rubbed the back of her neck, hesitating. “I kissed you, and then I never saw you again. A while ago.”

 

The witch’s eyes narrowed, recognition evident in her expression. “You told me your name was Anna.”

 

“Yeah and you didn’t tell me you were the Queen, so I guess we were both lying.” Emma shot back. “Why didn’t you come back? I looked for you for _weeks_ like a lovesick fool.”

 

“It wasn’t my choice. You remember how I was back then; I had no say. My husband found out about our midnight rendezvous, and he never let me out of his sight again until the day he died.”

 

“And you made sure that day came swiftly, didn’t you?” The Queen looked taken aback. “That’s right, news travels. You killed your husband with an Agrabahn Viper and made it look like an accident! That was my Grandfather!” Emma stepped away from the Queen, disgusted. “It’s disturbing how quickly twelve years can pass.”

 

“You would have done the same thing.”

 

“You have a warped idea of what I would do. You knew me when I was sixteen, and while you think you know everything sitting up here in your castle of stone, you don’t know me. I _fight_ for what is right, but I’m _definitely_ not a murderer.”

 

“It’s interesting you know.” Regina stepped back into Emma’s personal space, circling. “Out of all the knights who have come up here, you’re the only one I would _actually_ take delight in killing.”

 

Keeping her eyes on Regina, she took a breath trying to compose herself, agonizingly aware that the woman in front of her could snap her neck without lifting a finger – literally. “What have I ever done to you?”

 

“Not you, your family. Your _family_ is the cause of all of this.”

 

Emma squared her shoulders. “You’re about to break into a villainous monologue, aren’t you?”

 

The Queen let out this noise somewhere between a scream and a growl. She extended one of her hands in front of her, and Emma was shoved back against the wall, vines springing from the cave walls and capturing her in a vice-like grip. “You keep pushing me and you’re going to find out why everyone calls me a monster.” She rolled her head on her neck. “Let’s put it this way. If it wasn’t for your Grandfather, I wouldn’t be the way I am. If your _parents_ -” she spat the word, “didn’t decide that the only way to bring peace to the kingdom was to usurp _my_ throne and throw me into exile, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

 

The Queen got up into Emma’s face, her expression changing to something unreadable. “I can see it in your eyes, you’re trying to reconcile the girl I was with the woman I am. But that girl is dead.” It was said warmly enough, delivered with a smile that matched the emotion in her eyes— but yet it sent a chill down her spine. It was smile half-grief half-madness, a feral grimace of a life shattered beyond repair.

 

Emma’s armor felt infinitely heavier. It felt as if what had once protected her was crushing her lungs, squeezing the last bit of life out of her. Between the weight, and the closeness of the Queen, she felt light headed.

 

“You’re shifting blame,” Emma managed to choke out. “What are you going to do to me?” Without her sword, she felt a lot less brave. With a flick of The witch’s wrist, the torches blew out, and they were immersed in total darkness. “I’m not scared of the dark.”

 

Emma felt her get closer still, to the point that her breath fluttered her eyelashes and tickled her cheeks, leaning close to her ear. “Then what are you scared of?”

 

*     *     *

 

The witch had knocked Emma out soon after trapping her against the wall. When she came to and the fog cleared from her mind, Emma took in her surroundings. The chamber was lit once again, but her sword was nowhere in sight. She didn’t _want_ to leave. She wanted to complete her quest and bring back the happy endings, _but_ she couldn’t do that if she was six-feet-under.

 

She’d come back, with a plan.

 

Emma took one of the torches off the wall, and tried to remember the way she came in. The fire from the torch cast shadows that took on a life of their own, (or maybe it was the witch playing tricks on her mind). Winding her way through the cave in what she believed was the right direction, she reached a dead end. Turning back around, she nearly jumped out of her skin when a purple cloud of magic appeared, and the Queen materialized, with darkness tangled in her hair.

 

“Tsk tsk tsk, where do you think you’re going?”

 

“Um...” Emma ran a hand through her hair, (where did her gauntlets go?) “Home?”

 

“Uh-uh, I don’t think so. You think I’m going to let you go so easily, so you can come back with some Royal Army?”

 

“Don’t you sleep?!” Emma tried changing the subject. “It must be the middle of the night.”

 

"I don't sleep actually. My mind has the scary capability of being dark and demented, so I do as little of it as possible, if you must know. Nice try though, you’re not leaving. I’ll make you comfortable; far be it for me not to give my guests a comfortable bed to sleep in.”

 

“I’m not a guest.”

 

“Fine, hostage.” She said with a roll of her eyes. “That doesn’t sound as nice, does it?” The Queen gestures with her head, inviting Emma to follow her, and reluctantly, she does. In her quest to leave, it became clear that the witch could bend the cave walls to her will, and she wouldn’t be leaving if the Queen didn’t allow it.

 

Arriving back at the main chamber with much more ease than she had left it, the brunette stalked down one of the fire-lined corridors that split off from it. They arrived at a door that looked more like the entrance to a dungeon than a guest room. She opened the door, and Emma was pleasantly surprised with what was behind it.

 

There’s something delightfully sinful about enjoying the fruits of an evil queen’s reign. But the Queen gave her no other choice. There was a bathtub set up with steaming hot water, begging her to sink into it’s depths, and a bed that was gloriously large and silken-sheeted, and after all it had been a _very_ long day.

 

Reluctantly, Emma made her way into the room. “There’s no windows. How do I keep track of the days?”

 

“It’s a _cave_ Emma.” The Queen said, already leaving. “Days and nights mean nothing. Sleep until you’re not tired, then wake up. And don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you in your sleep.”

 

Emma rolled her eyes. “Comforting.”

 

*     *     *

 

Emma woke up an unknown amount of time later. After taking a bath, Emma had climbed into the soft sheets, not bothering about clothes. It hadn’t even been an entire sun cycle (she thinks), but the fact that she didn’t know day from night was already starting to do take a toll on her. Walking over to the wardrobe, there were fancy dresses and riding clothes, and while she couldn’t be _sure_ that they were left for her, it became evidently clear that her armor would be no use against the witch, and she had no desire to put it back on.

 

Slipping into breaches and a red tailed jacket, Emma slipped the fairy dust her mother had given her into the pocket, combed her hair with the brush left on the vanity, and quietly opened the door.

 

Making her way to the main chamber, she found a plate of food, along with a note left for her.

 

 _“Eat, drink, make yourself comfortable. Don’t try to leave; the chamber is enchanted to stop you. Feel free to explore the rooms within your corridor, but_ _only_ _in your corridor.”_

_-Regina_

 

“Make yourself comfortable” Emma mumbled, scoffing as she sat at the table. “Feel _free..._ asshole.” She sniffed at the food. The Queen had kept to her word and didn’t try to kill her in her sleep, but she didn’t say anything about poison. Hunger winning out, she took a tentative bite, groaning in pleasure. She didn’t see any servants around, but she doubted that the Queen had been slaving away in a kitchen.

 

“I wonder if this is actually chicken or some weird magical thing I’d rather not know about...” She thought aloud. “Either way, it’s not awful.”

 

After she finished her meal, the dishes magically disappeared, startling her. “Seven Hells.” Emma made her way to the chamber’s exit, and always one to test limits, hesitantly reached her hand forward over the precipice of the doorway. Something like a static shock, but infinitely worse coursed through her arm, causing her to recoil in pain. It felt like her entire body was on fire.

 

Shaking it off, Emma walked back to what the Queen lovingly called ‘her corridor.’ Passing her room, she opened the next door, and in it was a library larger than she’d ever seen in her life. She had thought the palace library was grand, but it looked like only a bookshelf in comparison. Books lined the walls, with ceilings so high she couldn’t see the tops of the shelves. The room was cozy, decorated with red velvet chairs that looked heavenly to sit in. There was a roaring fire going in the hearth, that didn’t seem to need any sort of maintenance (there were no logs beside it after all). Running her fingers along the spines of the books, she passed biographies of warriors, tales from realms far away, and even books of worship. If someone told her every book ever printed was in this very room, she would believe it.

 

She picked out a book about a warrior who killed a Queen (if it was real or fiction she wasn’t sure), and sat in one of the overstuffed chairs. Emma had been more comfortable than she thought, because she didn’t hear the Queen approaching, and didn’t notice her presence until the woman was practically standing on top of her.

 

“Well I thought you would have tried a little harder to escape.”

 

Emma calmly closed her book, looking up at the Queen. “What do you want from me?”

 

“I just would have thought that ‘The White Knight’ would have put up a bit more of a fight. At this rate, you’ll be in bed with me in a week.”

 

“Don’t count on it.” She wrinkled her nose and stood up, getting closer to the Queen. “A knight that stays alive is one who knows when they’re beat. And I can’t win against you, at least not now. If you were going to kill me, you would have already. Instead you’ve given me a nice room and changes of clothes. You’re playing a game, I just need time to figure out what it is.”

 

“Maybe I just like to play with my food.”

 

“Or maybe,” Emma said, moving closer still, close enough to the Queen that she could smell the apple-cinnamon of her bath soap and feel her body heat, “You’ve finally met your match and you don’t know what to do about it.”

 

*     *     *

 

Days turned into weeks (at least that was what Emma was able to glean from the tally marks she made on the wall every time she woke up). She had fallen into somewhat of a routine, avoiding the Queen as much as possible, and spending her days in the library, and trying to cook up a one-man plan to get the Hell out of Varas. She felt herself getting weaker as the days went on, her skin looking paler and paler every time she passed one of the Queen’s many mirrors.

 

By day seven of being in the cave, Emma was certain that she heard her parents coming for her, thought she heard them with the cavalry barreling through the cave, but it turned out it was just her mind playing tricks on her. It took another week-and-a-half before she was able to comb through the hallucinations, and accept that absolutely no one was coming for her (and she didn’t want them to; one Royal stuck in here was enough).

 

Emma had taken to pacing the halls to keep her limbs active, in case the day came where she would have the chance to run, she didn’t want her atrophied muscles to be the thing that stopped her.

 

While sitting in the library during her waking hours, the Queen barged in and plucked the book she was reading from her hands. Emma looked up with a rictus of a smile, but didn’t say anything.

 

“Come with me, I think you’re going to like this.”

 

Emma was sure of no such thing, but didn’t see that she had much of a choice. Walking down the winding halls of the cave, she saw a glowing yellow-orange light ahead. It was only once she got closer, feeling the warmth and fresh air, that she realized what she was seeing: the sun. Stepping tentatively outside, her skin burned, and it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever felt. Walking out of the cave for the first time since she’d walked in, the sun was casting orange and pink hues over the world. A fragrant breeze wafted over the green plains, blowing her hair off her face. It was the sort of moment that I would have been utterly delightful, if it hadn’t been for the Queen standing behind her with a proverbial knife to her back. She was standing in the shadows, not as if she feared the light, but as if she were simply sparring it her heavy existence.

 

Emma basked in the sunlight like it was the first drop of water she had to drink in centuries. When she turned around, the Queen was smiling, and not one of her usual sneers. It was one of her real smiles, rare, and not as bright as it used to be.

 

“I don’t get it. You’re not letting me go, why did you bring me out here?”

 

“Just because I’m not known for mercy doesn’t mean I don’t offer it. I know you only see me as some evil witch, but I’m just as human as you are. That, and your pallor was starting to depress me.”

 

“Always with the sarcasm.” Emma said, looking over the cliff’s edge. She looked down to where she left her horse, and just as she thought (and hoped),  he was long gone. Emma sat down near the cave’s exterior, relishing in the feeling of the gravel under her legs. “How long is this going to go on for?”

 

“What?” The Queen said, still not quite stepping out of the shadows.

 

“This.” Emma gestured vaguely to their surroundings. “All... this. You’re either going to eventually let me go, or kill me. So which is it?”

 

“I haven’t decided yet. Enough of this, come now.” Reluctantly, Emma got up and followed the Queen back inside. Walking into the cave after being in the sun, watching the light fade as she walked deeper into the cave, it seemed all the more cold and damp. Emma immediately felt her mood fall; it almost would have been better if she hadn’t been outside at all, because then she wouldn’t have truly realized what she was missing.

 

Getting back to the main chamber (or at least the main chamber Emma was familiar with), the Queen left her alone, and went down a corridor she wasn’t familiar with. She was about to go back to the library and resume her position on the couch when a thought gripped her. Clutching the vial of fairy dust that she’d taken to carrying around, she tentatively tested the doorway of the corridor with an outstretched hand, and found it to not be enchanted. After carefully weighing her options, she followed about fifteen minutes behind the Queen, taking small, careful steps. After not passing anything for quite some time, Emma almost turned back, until she saw a regal looking door at the end of the hall.

 

Steeling her resolve, she pushed the door open, and was greeted with a grand bedroom. At one end of the room was a wardrobe almost bigger than the room Emma was staying in, and straight in front of her was a large bed situated directly under a window. “Fucker,” Emma cursed under her breath. If there was a window, she figured she was on the other side of the cave, the side that looked over the Dark Forest. The Queen appeared to be asleep on the bed, but her chest was hardly moving.

 

Emma got closer to the bed, and emptied the bottle of fairy dust into her hand. Taking a deep breath, she threw it at the Queen. She waited. And waited. Nothing happened. “Maybe–”

 

“Really?” A voice came from behind her, cutting Emma off mid-thought. “And I thought we were getting along so well.” The Queen stepped out a dark corner and waved her hand; and the ‘Queen’ that was on the bed (along with all of the fairy dust and her only chance at escape) disappeared. “Don’t play mind games with a witch, Savior. You’ll lose.” She said.

 

“You were testing me?”

 

“Well obviously I was correct to do so. You must have known I wouldn’t leave myself so vulnerable. Somewhere, deep down, you don’t want to kill me, but you want to say you gave it your _best_ effort.”

 

Emma barked out a laugh. “You think highly of yourself. You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

 

The Queen shrugged. “I know you enough to know you don’t take killing as nonchalantly as you’d like me to believe, and that will ultimately be your downfall. You know what you want, and you know how to get it, but yet, here we are.”

 

“I want to go home, and I want to bring back the happy endings, why isn’t that enough?”

 

“Why?”

 

“Why _what_?” Emma growled, jaw clenched, opening and closing her fists.

 

“Why do you care about bringing back happy endings? You’ve sworn off love, so what do you get from it?”

 

Emma sighed. “Believe it or not, not everyone is as selfish as you. Just because I don’t do love anymore doesn’t mean I don’t want it for other people. I need to undo what _you_ did in this petty act of vengeance. You sit up here in the clouds playing God while real people suffer.”

 

“So,” The Queen crossed her arms. “You’re saying if I _were_ to lift the curse, you wouldn’t reclaim your title?”

 

“No. Titles don’t hold as much meaning as you think they do. And like I said, I’ve sworn off love. If I were to reclaim my title, I’d have to produce an heir, and I’m not... I can’t.”

 

“What do you mean you can’t?”

 

“This curse. I’ve lived with it most of my adult life, and just because you say it’s lifted doesn’t mean it fixes everything. For most of my life, love has been weakness, and brought nothing but inevitable pain and loss. That kind of thing doesn’t simply go away.”

 

The Queen, to her credit, looked ashamed. “I’m–”

 

“Don’t you dare,” Emma yelled, interrupting her, “say you’re sorry. This is exactly what you wanted.”

 

“You of all people know I’m not heartless.”

 

“Oh!” Emma exclaimed, a sound tinged with madness. “ _Now_ you want to pretend that you’re still the girl I once knew. No, you don’t get to do that.”

 

"That’s not what I mean. You haven't changed a bit, have you Swan? So… simple. To a fault even." The Queen said with a curl of her lip.

 

"Well... maybe, yeah. For what it’s worth, I think you've changed too much _Ina_.”

 

“Maybe.” The Queen stepped closer to Emma. “So why don’t you kill me, put everyone out of their misery.” She snapped her fingers, and Emma’s sword appeared in her hand. The Queen got closer still, before a purple cloud surrounded her. When the smoke cleared, the girl from the tavern, her Ina, was standing in front of her in the same blue riding jacket she was wearing when they first met. Her big, sad eyes peered into her soul and made her heart clench.

 

Ina stepped closer, close enough that she could reach forward and take the tip of Emma’s sword between her gloved fingers and press it to her heart. She put her hands out to her sides, as if she was about to take flight. “Kill me, _Anna_.”

 

Emma applied more pressure, but nowhere near enough. “Stop playing games with me.” She twisted the sword in her grip.

 

Ina–no–the Queen,’s eyes started watering, and she let out a sob. “Just end me.”

 

Emma shook her head, trying to shake the image from her mind to no avail. She knew this wasn’t the girl she once knew, and yet... Emma let her sword fall by her side, and stalked out of the room.

 

“Have a good day, Witch.” She tossed over her shoulder as she left.

 

*     *     *

 

There was no food in the main chamber at the next meal time, or the one after that, or the one after that. She hadn’t seen the Queen since that day in her room, and only had her hazy reflection in her sword to keep her company. Emma had pretty much resigned herself to the fact that she was going to starve to death in an uncharted cave, when The Queen walked in (without knocking mind you) holding a platter of pheasant big enough to feed a village. Emma narrowed her eyes.

 

“You’re not trying to starve me out?”

 

“I was. But I decided I didn’t feel like dealing with your withered corpse.” The Queen put down the platter on the small table beside Emma’s bed and sat in the armchair on the other side of the table.

 

“Right...” Emma rolled her eyes, but took no time in starting to eat. It had been almost two days (if she was counting properly) and hunger was trumping reason. “I’ve got to ask you something,” Emma said between bites, “why did you choose a cave? It’s not the most regal of places.”

 

“I wanted to be alone. When you’re sent into exile, there aren’t many options to begin with. So I picked the highest mountain on the edge of the Enchanted Forest to call home. Before you, I haven’t seen a living soul in nearly a decade.” The Queen was eating too, something Emma hadn’t seen her do yet.

 

“That’s no way to live; everyone needs someone.”

 

“Everyone might need someone, but that doesn’t mean anyone needs me.” Emma looked at Regina properly for the first time since she’d been there. Beneath all the mirth and fire, she was still the broken young girl she knew all those years ago. She’d gone down a path that had darkened her heart almost beyond recognition, but she still had the same insecurities. And it turns out, cursing an entire realm to misery doesn’t make you any happier.

 

Emma put two and two together. “Is that why I’m here?” Looking into The Queen’s eyes, it was as if Hades had accidentally left open the door of tortured souls, and they had escaped and jumped straight into the inky blackness of her irises.

 

The Queen looked back at her and shrugged, “Everyone needs someone.” The Queen took another bite, chewing slowly. “So, tell me, what happened to you after you stopped working at the tavern.”

 

“Where do I even start. The short version? I worked there for a few more years, and then one day this pirate came in. He was docked nearby, and decided The Gryphon’s Perch was a good place for him and his crew to stay for a couple nights. We...,” Emma rubbed her neck, uncomfortable with all the attention being on her, “Got closer. He would say he loved me, and then go back out to plunder ships and pillage villages, and I wouldn’t see him for months. I knew it couldn’t last, but when he proposed, I accepted. Around then your curse happened... and it wasn’t long before he was affected... because while he loved the sea, he loved me too. He became worse, if that was possible, and he turned into this monster that I hardly recognized, but I kept thinking that if I stayed I could fix him. One day, a rival pirate crew docked at the same time he was inland, and well... he found someone he had a bit more in common with, and I never saw him again.” Emma sighed. “It was all for the best, don’t get me wrong. I liked spending time with him, but I never loved him, not really. After losing him, and seeing what your curse could do, I made an oath. I swore off love, and made it my personal mission to bring an end to your reign of misery. That wasn’t short at all, was it?” She laughed self-consciously. Emma looked the Queen up and down, with her hair piled higher and her neckline cut lower than it was all those years ago. “What happened to you?”

 

The Queen picked at a nonexistent loose thread on her dress. “Your grandfather wasn’t a good man.”

 

“What?”

 

“You wouldn’t remember all this, considering you didn’t know who I was when we met later, but when his first wife died, your mother’s mother, Leopold held a ball to find his next wife. He had women – no I’m sorry, _girls_ – parading around his grand ballroom like show horses. My mother forced me to go because ‘It’s your chance to become Queen’” she said with a sneer. “As luck would have it, he picked me because ‘I reminded him of a lost love.’ I was seventeen, younger than his _daughter_ , and I became no more than his private, high-class courtesan. He kissed me when he wanted, fucked me when he wanted, and left me alone when he wanted, which was both a lot, and not nearly enough. The times I spent with you was like a swift light passing across a darkened room; warm and welcomed, but gone much too soon. The day we... the last day I saw you, Leopold found out. And I was never let out of my room without his supervision. So that’s why I never came back, but you already know that part. Living like that breaks you. He killed me the second he put his hands on me for the first time, so I thought it was only fair, a life for a life.”

 

Emma was looking at the woman in front of her, and it was becoming more and more clear that this portrait of a mad Queen that can’t be reasoned with was a role she was playing. The Queen, Regina, wasn’t deranged, she was damaged. “I don’t understand,” she started slowly, “You didn’t love Leopold, and he didn’t love you. So, why did you enact a curse so that _no one_ could find love?”

 

“I HAD love!” Regina yelled, her voice cracking like she was on the verge of tears. “My mother _killed_ him in front of me because she didn’t think he was good enough! He wasn’t royalty, he didn’t come from a good family, so my mother took away my choice, and she killed him. I loved my mother, against my better judgement, and she betrayed me. I loved my father, but he was too scared of Cora to do anything. I loved Daniel, and I lost him. Love hasn’t been kind to me. I did everyone a favor, love is weakness.”

 

“But that’s not what happened.” Emma said calmly. “You did exactly what was done to you. You took away people’s chance, and you took away their choice. Everyone has to have the chance to fuck up their own relationships.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You do?”

 

“Of course I do.” Regina swiped at a rogue tear that had escaped her eye. “I figured that out pretty damn quickly, but I sort of backed myself into a corner. If I relented and lifted the curse, I’d be seen as weak, and all the years of torment and being sent into exile would be for nothing. Fixing the mess I made doesn’t make me a good person.”

 

“You can still fix this you know.” Emma said, voice barely above a whisper. “You can stop all of this.”

 

Regina bit her lip and looked down, but didn’t say anything.

 

“Well,” Emma sighed, getting off the bed, “I’m certain at this point my parents think I’m _super_ dead, so I guess I can stay here as long as you need me to.”

 

Regina looked up, and was astounded by the woman she was looking at. She had been held captive for weeks, with no one but her to talk to, and even she wasn’t around most of the time. Most people would have gone beyond mad, but Emma still had her wits about her. Wordlessly, Regina waved her hand, and an image materialized in the mirror across the room. Emma looked up in time to see her parents in their bedroom, twin looks of worry etched on their faces.

 

She ran up to the mirror. “Mom? Dad?” She waved and banged on the glass, trying to get their attention.

 

They looked up, falling over themselves once they saw their daughter in the mirror. Their mouths moved, but no sound came out.

 

Emma turned back to Regina. “I can’t hear them.”

 

Regina rolled her eyes. “Of course you can’t, it’s a _mirror_.”

 

Emma sighed, so close yet so far. She breathed hot air on the mirror, fogging it up, so she could spell out ‘I love you’ to her parents. They cried, and it broke her heart to see them without being able to hear them or hold them.

 

With hand motions, they asked Emma if she was okay. She considered this for a moment, and considered her definition of okay, before tentatively nodding. She might not be free, but she was alive, and she guessed that was okay.

 

Her mother motioned between herself and her father, made a heart with her hands, and then pointed at Emma. Emma closed her eyes, inhaling deeply to stop herself from crying. She didn’t think she’d miss her parents this much, but when you _can’t_ see someone, you want to so much more than play a game of charades through glass. They put their hands to the mirror, touching through distance. Slowly, the image began to fade, and once it was gone, only then did Emma allow herself to cry.

 

Regina got up and closed the distance between her and the blonde. “I’m sorry,” she said, instinctively opening her arms and hugging her. This time, Emma let Regina apologize, crying into the older woman’s shoulder.

 

“Look at me Emma.” The blonde looked up, and Regina gently took her chin between her thumb and forefinger. “I’m sorry.”

 

Emma looked at her like her eyes could hold all the answers, but she was only a blank page. The Queen’s hessonite eyes brimmed with genuine remorse. Emma leaned forward, but then stopped.

 

The brunette looked down, torment swirling in her eyes. She refused to make the first move, and was caught between one breath and the next. They hovered, suspended in time, their lips breathing out hushed dares to move first.

 

Clearly fighting an inner battle, Emma whispered a strangled “you should go.”

 

“Yeah.” The Queen whispered back, her voice like gravel.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Regina nodded, and left Emma alone for the night.

 

*     *     *

 

Emma woke up to Regina coming into her room, her armor in her hand. “You may go now, I’m not going to stop you.” She left her armor in a heap at the foot of Emma’s bed.

 

Emma rubbed her eyes, convinced she was hallucinating again, but when she reached forward and found the armor to be real, she grew confused. “You– I– what?!”

 

Regina shrugged. “I told you I was sorry. And I can’t say that I’m sorry, and force you to stay here. I’m going to lift the curse, and you’re going to go home.” She left the room then, giving Emma time to change.

 

When Emma stepped out of the room, her armor heavy on her back after Gods know how much she’d been without it, she saw Regina sitting in the main chamber.

 

“Come on now.” The Queen said, leading Emma to the mouth of the cave.

 

Out in the sun, with Regina standing beside her, she finally got a good look at her. She had a warm, wholesome beauty, about her, truly alluring if it weren’t for the haunted look in her eyes. She was wearing the same velvet dress she had been wearing the day Emma entered the cave, as if that dress was the bookends to their interaction. Regina had something in her hand that Emma hadn’t noticed before. Reaching into this container, she pulled out a handful of powder that looked a lot like the fairy dust Emma came in with.

 

Cupping the powder in her hands, Regina murmured a few words, and then blew, and the powder morphed into a faint purple glow that travelled across the kingdom as far as Emma’s eyes could see, followed by a burst of white light.

 

“That’s it?”

 

“That’s it.” The Queen confirmed. “Everyone is free to love, or not love, and live happily ever after.”

 

“Wow.” Emma was dumbfounded. “Alright, let’s go.”

 

“No.”

 

“What do you mean no?”

 

“I’m not leaving Emma, I was _banished_. By definition that means I can’t set foot in the kingdom.”

 

“But you broke the curse!”

 

“Undoing the misery you caused doesn’t make you a hero Emma. I’m still the bitter exiled Queen, and nothing I do can change that.”

 

“Fine.” Emma turned to leave.

 

“Wait.” Emma stopped in her tracks, hoping Regina had changed her mind. “It’ll take you days if you walk all the way back to your palace.” She waved her hand, and a bridge formed of the rocks from the side of the cliff formed, spanning over the tops of the trees of the forest she had passed through all those weeks ago. “You’ll be home in an hour.”

 

Emma gave Regina a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks. For everything I guess.”

 

“Oh, one more thing.”

 

“Hmm?” Emma turned around, and her eyes locked with Regina’s, which ended up being a mistake.

 

The Queen raised her hand, and Emma fell into somewhat of a trance. "You'll remember me as a bitter, hideous monster from whom you barely escaped. But you defeated me, and you won. You'll never come back here. You'll find happiness and live a normal life, free of the threat of curses. Have a good life Emma Swan."

 

Regina lowered her hand, and Emma blinked a couple times as if she was waking up from a dream. And then she turned on her heel, and she ran away, across the bridge that Regina had built just for her. And she just kept running. If Emma had turned around, she would have seen that there were two, small tears that trickled down the Queen's cheek. One was for herself and the other, was for Emma Swan.

 

The entire palace was waiting at the foot of the bridge when Emma returned, and she was greeted with open arms. As someone who prided herself on her ability to remember things, she couldn’t quite figure out why there were giant gaps in her memory, but chalked it up to trauma. There would be mistakes and differences in her story from one retelling to another, but no one cared, because the Savior had returned and the curse had been lifted. When asked about the witch, Emma couldn’t remember anything besides her being evil. Sometimes she had raven black hair, sometimes she had wings, it was as if her mind was rolling a dice every time she looked for a description.

 

That night, for the first time in as long as anyone could remember, the sky was full of stars.

 

In the days that followed, Emma had a sneaking suspicion that she was forgetting something, something important. It felt like her memories had been ripped apart at the seams and stitched back together like a cheap patchwork quilt. In her dreams she would catch glimpses of a beautiful face, but when she woke, the memory would die.

 

No less than a week after her return, the palace got word that there was the starting of a war happening, and they needed to assemble an army, so Emma packed up her belongings, loaded them onto Everest.

 

“Don’t leave us again Emma, not when you just got back.” Her mother was in tears.

 

“You know I have to. I’ll be back before you know it.”

 

Emma tapped her heels against her horse’s side, and she rode off with the rest of the army behind her.

 

*     *     *

 

**One Year Later**

 

The Royal Army returned, with the White Knight leading at the helm. They were all a little worse for wear; coming back with their armor flecked with dents and scuffs. Their numbers had thinned out a bit, enough that the welcoming crowd noticed, but Snow White and Prince Charming only had eyes for the woman leading the pack. Their daughter had returned once more.

 

“Mom! Dad!” Emma jumped off her horse, now a black stallion, and ran to embrace her parents. “Oh Gods I missed you.”

 

The family embraced, the picture of a happy reunion. Snow took Emma’s face in her hands, studying her daughter’s face that she hadn’t seen in far too long.

 

“Oh Emma, you’re okay! I’ll work at getting a salve for your cuts and bruises right away.”

 

“Mom, it’s okay.” Emma smiled. Fierce warrior or not, she couldn’t pretend she didn’t miss her mother fussing over her, at least a bit. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be a lot _better_ when I’ve had a hot bath.”

 

“Oh of course!” Snow released Emma’s face. “What happened to Everest?”

 

“He got sick.” Emma sighed. “About 6 months in.” Emma pet the muzzle of the horse that hadn’t left her side since she dismounted. “This is Midnight.”

 

“Hey there Midnight.” David pet the snout of the black horse, who whinnied in response.

 

Emma gave her parents one last hug before making her way into the castle and to her chambers. She was surprised when she walked in to see that the staff had kept her room spotless; it was like she’d only been gone a day.

 

Someone walked in, someone Emma didn’t recognize, and drew her bath for her, congratulating her on a successful victory.

 

“Thanks,” Emma ran a hand through her hair, “it was a team effort. Don’t tell my parents this, but there was a time I didn’t think I’d make it home. I can take this from here.”

 

The woman made a key-locking motion by her mouth, bowed her head ever-so-slightly, and left Emma to take a bath. Stripping off her heavy armor was a literal weight off her shoulders, and sinking into a steaming hot bath for the first time in over a year was a heaven Emma had never experienced. It seems ‘fun’ in theory to bathe in a river, but by day 5 it’s tedious, and by day 245 it’s downright torture. She ran a comb through her hair, getting out the tangles that had made their home in her tresses, pulling until she was almost certain she’d be bald.

 

Emma scrubbed her skin, removing layers of dirt, sweat, and blood until she was pink with the effort. When Emma looked up at the mirror across from her, she almost thought she saw movement, but chalked it up to not having a moment to herself in over a year. Emma put her hair in a loose braid before reluctantly getting out of the cooling bath, putting on a light blouse and pants.

 

When she made her way down to dinner, her parents were already waiting with the table filled with food. “Do you mind if Mulan eats with us?” Snow asked as Emma sat down. “She’s been having meals with us for the past few months.”

 

“Yeah of course, no problem!”

 

Mulan was part of the Royal Army, but she was usually the one who held down things on the home front while Emma went off and fought. Her parents had tried countless times to get Emma to deploy Mulan instead, but Emma refused.

 

Mulan walked in moments later, arm-in-arm with Red, the head-cook’s granddaughter and one of Emma’s best friends. Emma was taken aback for a moment.

 

“That’s new.”

 

“It’s thanks to you Emma!” Red came behind Emma’s chair and gave her a hug.

 

“Me?”

 

“Yes you!” Her mother piped in, “ever since you defeated the witch, love has blossomed in the Enchanted Forest like never before. Maybe you...”

 

Emma put her hand up to stop her mother. “No.” A flicker of fire flashed through her mind. “...at least not now.” She wasn’t so sure anymore, but she couldn’t figure out why. “Good for you two though, really!” She gave her friend a genuine smile, and turned to Mulan. “Red is a great girl.”

 

“Don’t I know it.”

 

The five of them tucked into their dinner, Emma devouring the meat and wine hungrily as if she hadn’t seen food in years. Pleasant conversation floated through the air as they ate dinner, Emma regaling her friends and family with tales of battle and hijinks.

 

*     *     *

 

The next few weeks and months were mostly the same. Meals with her parents, walking around the castle, riding Midnight through the pastures. It’s not that Emma wasn’t happy that she wasn’t rushing off saving the kingdom, but the truth was, she was in a horrible rut. Going from war to Royal life was quite a change. Plus, there was that whole business with the breaking of the curse. As the war raged on, the curse, the cave, and the witch moved further and further back in her memory, until she could honestly say she forgot most of it.

 

Losing chunks of her memory was really taking a toll on Emma. Tossing and turning one night, after over half a year of living a cyclical existence, Emma made a decision. Eager to proceed forwards at the first sign of dawn, Emma got out of bed before the sun came up, snuck into the kitchen and took enough rations to last a couple of days. As the sun peeked over the horizon, before anyone in the castle save for a few of the staff were awake, Emma hopped on Midnight’s back, and left.

 

Riding out through the kingdom with the wind in her hair and the early-morning sun on her face, Emma felt alive. She wasn’t riding with any destination in mind, yet when she arrived at the precipice of the Dark Forest, something within her told her to ride through. A small voice in the back of her mind told her she had done this before, but try as she did, she couldn’t actually remember. Common knowledge told her _not_ to venture into the Dark Forest, but a gut instinct deep within her that she couldn’t quite place told her to ride through it.

 

Moving through the heavy, swaying branches, the sunlight dimmed, until it was only her and the wildlife. The woods are full of constant noise. Rustling leaves, the scratch of tiny nails against the bark, all punctuated with gusts of wind that bend heavier bows creaking under its push.

 

She felt the day pressing on, yet she rode.

 

Emma stopped a couple of times to allow her horse to eat, drink, and rest. Emma tried to nap when Midnight was, but she kept feeling like she needed to keep going. Every moment stopped felt like agony. At some point, reluctantly, she fell asleep.

 

She woke with a start. Midnight was nudging her with his nose, trying to wake her. She was dreaming again, of that beautiful face that she couldn’t place. Of tender touches and whispered promises. Although cynical by day, if it were possible to fall for a figment of your imagination, by Gods it was happening.

 

Shaking sleep off, Emma continued her journey. The animals that chirped and screeched their way through the night were asleep, so the forest was dead again. The only sounds were the leaves underfoot, and Midnight’s breath.

 

The trees were thinning up ahead, and she pushed Midnight to a gallop. Once out of the last line of trees and back into the sun, Emma stood at the foot of a behemoth of a mountain. She had heard of this place, but she couldn’t remember where. The Spine of the World. She had the strangest sense that she’d been here before, like something life-changing happened at the top of the mountain.

 

Hardly thinking, she tethered her horse to a tree, took food out of Midnight’s saddlebag, and made her way up the mountain. There were two voices fighting in her head. One yelling at her, telling her to turn around and never look back. Telling her that this was a horrible idea and she could end up dead, or worse. But there was another voice, quieter and yet more powerful, telling her to press on. Telling her to climb the mountain and meet her fate.

 

The quieter voice won out, and she started her journey up the mountain. There was a slight chill in the air and no heavy armor on her back, so climbing the mountain was enjoyable. She stopped a couple of times to take in the view, wishing there was a way to capture it. “I must bring one of the Royal painters up here,” she thought to herself. Far off in the distance she could see the castle. By now they must be wondering where she had gone off to; if she was correct, it had been over a sun cycle since she left.

 

She reached the top of the mountain, feeling like this is where she was supposed to be. It was beautiful, but it was empty. Almost. If Emma wasn’t paying attention, if she wasn’t looking for _something_ she might have missed it. Something was sitting at the edge of the cliff. When she got closer, she saw it was a woman with long, flowing brown hair sitting on a blanket made from velvet. She was looking out over the forest, opposite from the way Emma came, eyes not focused on anything in particular. The woman was like a perfect accessory, silent, beautiful, and almost completely overlooked. She had retreated so far into herself that she didn’t hear Emma walk up and stand mere inches away from her.

 

“Hello?” The woman flinched. “Excuse me?”

 

The woman turned around painfully slow. As she faced Emma, the woman from her dreams flitted across her vision. Their eyes met, and everything came crashing back.

 

The journey up the mountain.

 

The cave.

 

The curse.

 

The almost-kiss.

 

Leaving.

 

These moment flashed in Emma’s memory in bursts, and it felt like she had the wind knocked out of her. She remembered. She remembered everything, including why she couldn’t remember in the first place.

 

“You. You made me forget.”

 

The woman–Regina, she remembers now–nodded. “I did.”

 

“That’s not fair.”

 

“I didn’t want you coming back here Emma.” Regina stood up. “The White Knight shouldn’t be seen with the likes of me.”

 

“That’s not for you to decide.” Emma crossed her arms, staring Regina down. “You took away my right to choose what I wanted, _again_ , and that’s not fair. You ripped a chunk of time out of my memory... you almost drove me crazy, do you understand that?”

 

“I wanted you to–”

 

“No!” Emma cut her off. “Haven’t you _learned_? You can’t bend people to your will. You can’t put spells on people so things turn out the way you want them to.”

 

“Emma I’m– I’m sorry.” The Queen hung her head. “I didn’t think.”

 

“Do you know what it’s like to feel like a piece of yourself is missing? To feel like you can’t trust your mind because you _know_ something huge is gone, but no matter how much you try, you can’t fill that hole. I kept seeing your face. My dreams were consumed with your face, a face I didn’t remember. It’s been almost two years, and it’s felt like something so important was missing from my life; nothing ever felt right. I didn’t know it, but I was looking for you.”

 

Regina sighed. “You have to go.”

 

“Did you not hear a thing I just said?!” Emma exploded. “Your curse, your _spell_ , it didn’t work, not really. No matter how much you wanted me to forget you, I didn’t. Not entirely. That has to mean _something._ ”

 

“You can’t possibly believe that.” Regina sighed. “You’re attracted to bad ideas, that’s all this is. Don’t overthink things.”

 

"Then what am I doing here? I was drawn here by something stronger than your spell that made me forget."

 

Regina’s eyes widened, but she scoffed, unconvincingly feigning indifference. “What? Now that you got me to lift the curse you think you’re in love? After what I did to you?”

 

“That’s not what I said. It would be crazy to call this love. All I’m saying is that I’ve never felt something so strong as the compulsion to find you. After I set out, every moment I wasn’t moving closer to you physically hurt me. I didn’t know where I was going, I didn’t even remember making the journey the first time. My heart just knew where to go. I might have forgotten everything else, but deep down, I never forgot you.” Emma took a deep breath. “And that might be insane, but it’s how I feel.”

 

“You’re right... that is insane. But... I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’ve regretted every day since the day you left. I... missed you.” Regina didn’t look Emma in the eyes. “Having you around was nice. It was nice having someone to talk to.”

 

“See!” The smile on Emma’s face rivaled the sun. “That’s a start! I want to know you again.”

 

“You know I’m not that person anymore.” Regina hugged herself.

 

“I know. I want to know you now.”

 

“Okay.” The Queen looked over the precipice of the cliff. “But for God’s sake don’t go through the forest anymore, you’re going to catch your death out there one night.”

 

The blonde laughed. “How do you propose I get here then?”

 

The witch waved her hand, and a bridge appeared, the same bridge, Emma remembered, she took home after their first... interaction.

 

“Don’t you think that’s going to rouse suspicion?” Emma asked. A giant bridge spanning from the top of a mountain is bound not to go unnoticed for long.

 

“There’s a cloaking spell on it. Unless someone is actively looking for it, they won’t see it. Come whenever you’d like.”

 

“Thanks.” The blonde smiled again. “See you soon then.” Emma turned to walk down the mountain.

 

“Where _are_ you going?”

 

“My horse? I can’t just leave him there.”

 

Regina waved her hand, and a purple cloud appeared. When the mist cleared, Midnight was at the top of the mountain with them, looking a bit startled, but otherwise unharmed.

 

“Oh he’s beautiful” Regina crooned. She walked up to the animal and pet him, and he nuzzled himself into Regina’s hand. “You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?”

 

“You like horses?” Emma reached into her bag and pulled out an apple for Midnight to nibble on.

 

“Love them.” She looked wistful. “I miss riding.”

 

“We should ride sometimes.”

 

Conflict played out on Regina’s face, but Emma didn’t quite catch it. “That sounds nice.”

 

“I’ll see you later then.” Emma hopped onto Midnight’s back and made her way home over the bridge. As she got closer to the castle, she made sure no one was around. The grounds were practically deserted, so she was able to ride her horse back to the stables without anyone noticing where she’d come from.

 

When she entered the castle on the other hand... that was a different story. Snow practically launched herself at Emma before she closed the door behind her.

 

“Where were you we were worried sick!” Her mother started checking her face for injuries. “Where have you been?”

 

“I went for a ride, it’s no big deal.”

 

“You were gone for nearly two days! You could have been killed!”

 

“Mom, relax. Please. I can handle myself. I just wanted some space.”

 

“Okay honey, okay.” She seemed to calm down. “Please just... tell someone if you’re leaving, don’t sneak off in the middle of the night. We worry.”

 

Emma conceded. “Alright.”

 

*     *     *

 

Three days later, Emma told Mulan she was going for a walk, and not to look for her. Mulan, never one to ask questions, just nodded and didn’t give her any trouble. She circled the grounds once, making sure no one was by the bridge before she made her way across.

 

Regina was outside again when she returned. Her eyes - dark like a rolling storm - trailed over her form and left Emma feeling naked beneath her gaze.

 

“You came back.”

 

“Was there ever any doubt?”

 

The Queen shrugged. “Actually, no. You’re stubborn enough that I had a feeling you’d be back, if only to prove a point.” It’s easy to discern a lie from her; she has this tell where she touches her neck every time a lie passes her lips.  

 

“That’s not why I’m here, and you know it. I’m serious Regina, I want to know you. The you that you are now.”

 

“And...?”

 

Emma let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. “And... I needed to get away from my parents.”

 

“There you go.” The Queen smiled.

 

And ‘get to know’ each other they did. It was like when they met in that tavern all those years ago, except both women were a bit more weather-worn and cynical. Emma cried, Regina cried, and they got closer. Emma was spending more time with Regina than she was at home, and if her parents were starting to get suspicious, she didn’t notice. The dark cloud that had been over both of their heads for _years_ finally started lifting. It was unusual and unexpected, but they were happy.

 

Regina hardly went into the cave anymore. As weeks and months went by, her Evil Queen regalia made fewer and fewer appearances. She’d wear simpler (still elegant) clothes, sometimes even wearing the sort of riding outfits she used to back when she was younger.

 

On one of those days in particular, when Regina was wearing riding pants, leather boots, and a crimson red jacket, that Emma asked “do you still want to go riding sometime?”

 

Regina’s face fell. “Of course I do, but I can’t leave here. You know that.”

 

“Why not? You’re not the same witch who cast the curse.”

 

“You know that, and I know that, but... the people down there, your parents. They don’t see that. How could they?”

 

“I’m sure if I just–”

 

“No.” Regina cut her off. “Emma, this is what we have. This is all we can have, take it or leave it.”

 

Emma sighed. “Okay. But maybe if...” Regina glared at her. “Never mind.”

 

When it came time for Emma to leave, Regina walked her to the bridge, as she always does. “I know it’s unconventional, but I like this.”

 

“You’re a female knight who renounced her claim to the throne Emma, were you ever one for convention?” They both laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

 

“Of course. And the next day, and the one after that.”

 

With a wave, Emma got on Midnight’s back and made her short journey home.

 

*     *     *

 

Regina sat just inside the mouth of the cave, shielding herself from the noonday sun, her eyes trained on the bridge at the edge of the cliff. It wasn’t like Emma to come this late, but she figured she got held up at the castle doing one thing or another; she did still have responsibilities after all. She spent the rest of the day reading, staying outside until long after the sun went down.

 

The second day came, and Emma still didn’t show. “There has to be something keeping her.” Regina mused. “She wouldn’t just _not_ show up. Right?” Regina paced the upper quarter of Mount Varas, stopping ever-so-often listen for Midnight’s hooves on the bridge. As the sun set, it became clear that Emma wouldn’t be coming on that day either.

 

By day three, Regina was hurling fireballs at the rock face. “I–shouldn’t–have–trusted–her!” The witch was furious. “Of _course_ she left!” She screamed to no one in particular. “I should expect nothing more.” She slumped against the side of the cave, seething.

 

“She did this on purpose. She let me open up to her and then disappeared.” Regina’s thoughts stopped in their tracks. That’s probably exactly how Emma felt all those years ago. And it wasn’t Regina’s choice to stop seeing her. Maybe... no. She couldn’t let herself think like that.

 

Regina had four more days to mull things over in her head. She lashed out before, but deep down, she knew Emma wouldn’t just _not_ come, without even sending word somehow. Something must have happened. On day seven, Regina put on one of her black bejeweled dresses, but let her hair hang in loose curls around her shoulders, then she did something she hadn’t done in a decade. She left the mountain.

 

Regina transported herself to the foot of the bridge on the White family property, without thinking to cloak herself the same way she cloaked the bridge. It wouldn’t have been any use though, because there was a literal witch hunt coming her way; clearly people were looking for her.

 

The Royal Army was closing in, led by a knight she didn’t recognize. Instead of disappearing or fighting back, Regina put her hands up in surrender; she wasn’t here to fight, not this time.

 

They surrounded her in an instant, with swords and spears pressed against her skin. She doesn’t move, biting back every retort on her tongue. A masked knight slaps something on her wrist, something she’s seen before, but never had used on her. It’s a leather cuff, a few inches in width that blocks her magic. Instantly, something feels wrong. Having her magic within her, yet inaccessible makes her feel off, and when the knight behind her jabs her in the back to tell her to walk, she stumbles before regaining herself.

 

Unsurprisingly, she’s led to the dungeon of the castle. She hadn’t been here since before her exile, and the castle had hardly changed. Where her portrait once hung, now were pictures of the grown up Snow White and her Prince, but besides that, the decor was very much the same.

 

Walking down the spiral staircase, the walls reeked of dampness and despair. She was pushed into a cell forcefully, the door slammed behind her with a sound like a cannon burst. “Where’s Emma?!” Her question fell on deaf ears as the knights retreated. She wasn’t used to the darkness anymore, not like this, so her eyes were straining to readjust, with only a single dim candle parting the unrelenting darkness. Her breath slowed, fingers brushing against the walls, eyes staring at nothing, as she tried to familiarize herself with her bleak surroundings.

 

She found a cot in one of the corners farthest from the door, and as she started nodding off, Regina heard footsteps approaching. Skittering to the door, Regina wrapped her fingers around the bars. “Emma?”

 

Stepping out of the shadows wasn’t Emma, but Snow White herself. “Not quite.”

 

Regina sunk back. “Where’s Emma?”

 

“That’s none of your concern, Witch,” Snow spat.

 

“Please,” Regina pleaded, “is she alright? Tell me that.”

 

“She will be, after we reverse what you’ve done to her.” Regina felt, more than saw Snow glaring at her.

 

“What I... did to her? What do you mean?”

 

“We saw her coming back from one of her rendezvous with you. You put a spell on _our_ daughter.”

 

Regina was silent for nearly an entire minute. “Snow... what are you talking about?”

 

“You did something!” The rightful Queen shrieked. “She’s been going to meet you for God’s know how long, why _else_ would she be associating with the likes of you. You tried to wipe her memory, and when that didn’t work you enchanted her to... to... I don’t know!”

 

The witch took a deep breath. “So... you’re telling me you think I bewitched your daughter to fall for me? What does Emma think of all this?”

 

“She doesn’t know we know. We’ve been keeping her busy while we tracked you down, but you ended up coming right to us.” Snow got closer, face nearly pressed up against Regina’s. “And now that we have her, we’re going to tell her she’s free. The love we have for our daughter will break your wretched curse and she will be free.”

 

“I didn’t curse her!”

 

“Why should I believe you?”

 

“Because I love her!” Regina exclaimed before she could stop herself. “And she probably doesn’t love me back and that’s _fine_ , but I wouldn’t curse her. I made that mistake once, and I paid for it dearly. I know you don’t believe me, but I’ve changed. I know it's a love I don't deserve; especially after having stolen love from so many others for years., but it’s the truth, and that’s all I can tell you.”

 

Snow faltered for a moment, before her face hardened. “You’re full of it. Of course I don’t believe you! You’re still the evil witch who killed my father and tried to have me killed. You’re not going to see Emma ever again, Hell, you’re never going to see _daylight_ again you evil, spiteful woman. You deserve to suffer for all eternity, for everything you’ve put this kingdom through... for everything you’ve put my _family_ through.”

 

The Queen turned and walked away, leaving Regina alone again in the damp silence. She made her way back to the cot and collapsed into it. She hadn’t realized she was still capable of the depths of grief she now felt. Yet here was an anguish so enveloping, she could hardly bear it; a harsh admonition for her hubris at believing herself beyond its reach. She should’ve known that sooner or later it would come to an end. As awful a reality it was, she didn’t know if they’d ever see each other again.

 

*     *     *

 

Emma was seated at the roundtable, going over battle plans for the umpteenth time. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out why her parents were so fixated on finalizing plans for invasions and declarations of war when they had never been this meticulous before. Dutifully, Emma complied. She missed seeing Regina, and hoped she wasn’t taking her absence personally. As she was talking about defending the castle’s back walls in cases of siege, her mother came sauntering in grinning ear to ear.

 

“Good news!” Snow declared.

 

“What, we’re not under attack and can go back to our regular lives?” Emma looked up from the drawing on the table.

 

“We’ve captured the witch!”

 

Emma dropped the quill that was in her hand and stood up abruptly. “What?”

 

“The witch, _Emma_ . The one you said you defeated _Emma_ . The one who has you under her spell, _Emma!_ ”

 

“Why do you keep saying my name, _mother_.” Emma was panicking. “And what witch has me under her spell?”

 

“Regina.” Her mother clasped her hands. “And now that we’ve trapped her and taken away her magic, we can break the curse she put on your heart and free you!”

 

Emma was shaken; several thoughts running through her head at once. How did they know about Regina? How did they find her? Why did they take her magic? Was she in danger? Where are they holding her? She was panicking; she didn’t want to lose Regina again, especially not like this.

 

“Mom she didn’t curse me,” was what Emma settled on. “What possibly gave you that idea?”

 

“We know about your secret meetings, Emma how could you? Why else would you be going to see her?”

 

She felt trapped. Everyone in the room’s eyes were on her. “I have to go.” The blonde bolted out of the room and to the dungeons, hoping that’s where Regina was being held.

 

Emma took a torch from the top of the stairs before she descended, taking the stairs two at a time. “Regina? Regina!”

 

“Emma?” A voice echoed from the cell up ahead. Feet shuffled on the stone floor through the darkness before Regina appeared at the bars of one of the dungeon doors.

 

“I swear I didn’t say a thing, how did they find you?”

 

“Someone saw you. The last time you came to see me... someone saw you coming back.”

 

“No one ever... ohhhh...” reality dawned on Emma, “That’s why my mother has been keeping me so busy lately. She was trying to stop me from seeing you. But that doesn’t answer my question: how did they find _you_?”

 

In the glow of the torchlight deep in the dungeon, it felt a lot like when they came face to face back in the cave almost two years ago. Except now, Regina was the one in danger. “I... left the mountain. I came looking for you. I _think_ your mother hoped that by keeping you away it would draw me out to come find you. Clearly she was right.”

 

“I’m–I’m still so confused. There’s no way the Royal Army could have taken you down, your magic would flatten them in an instant.”

 

“I didn’t fight back.” Regina’s eyes were downcast. “I figured violence would make it worse. Besides, that’s not me anymore. I don’t want that to be me. So I surrendered and let them take me. Honestly, I thought it was about breaking exile, I didn’t even imagine that your mother thought I cursed you.”

 

“This isn’t right.” Emma ran her free hand through her hair. “You’re a good person and you deserve to be treated like it.” Regina didn’t say anything. “Tonight, I’m going to get you out of here. We’re going to run.”

 

“Emma, stop. I have to own up to my mistakes and pay for what I've done. I may not have cursed your heart, but I _do_ deserve this.”

 

“But Regina–”

 

“Please. You’re okay, that’s all I needed to know.” Regina reached through the bars, fingers brushing against Emma’s face like it would be the last time, and maybe it would be. “You’re okay. So I’m okay. Leave now, please. Don’t remember me like this. Remember the woman you saved, in all the ways someone can be saved.”

 

Emma looked towards the ceiling, fighting back tears. “I’m going to fix this.” Emma slipped the torch through the bars, and hung it in a bracket near the door. “Don’t live in the dark.”

 

*     *     *

 

Emma didn’t have to worry about Regina being imprisoned too long. There was a trial the following day; and of course, Regina wasn’t allowed to be there to defend herself. The trial consisted mainly of Regina’s crimes being listed, including the false one about the curse on Emma’s heart. Emma was forced to sit there, teeth clenched, as her parents decided on a sentence.

 

There wouldn’t be another exile, there wouldn’t be life imprisonment. No. They wanted to kill her. They wanted to execute her in front of the entire kingdom, then throw a party as if it was the best thing to happen. They wanted to mark her death as a holiday, and it made Emma’s stomach turn. Emma was still the highest ranking knight in the army. If the execution order went through, she would have to stand beside the executioner, straight-faced, as Regina met her fate.

 

“Mother, _stop_ !” The room went quiet, and Emma stood up to face her parents. “You don’t know Regina, not like I do. I get it, she did some horrible things in the past, and I’m not excusing that, but no one in this room is free of sin. You can’t put her on trial, accusing her of things she _didn’t_ do, and not even allow her to be here. Is that the kind of ruler you want to be? An unjust one? The type of ruler that Regina was? The type of ruler you risked your lives to overturn? This is wrong and you know it, and I _refuse_ to take part in this blatant display of injustice.” Emma walked out of the room, and down towards the dungeons. She stopped by the kitchen to get a plate of breakfast before descending the stairs.

 

“Regina?” she whispered as she approached the door to her cell.

 

Regina lay on the cot looking skywards, lips moving slowly as if she were mouthing along to the song of the universe. She turned her head to face Emma, “Yeah?”

 

Emma sighed with relief. She took the keys off the wall near Regina’s cell and stepped through the door, food in hand. “You fed me well in your home, I figured it’s only fair I do the same,” she said with a smile.

 

For the first time, Emma actually took in Regina’s surroundings. “This is dreadful.”

 

“You’re telling me,” Regina said, taking a bite of one of the pastries Emma brought with her. “What brings you down here?”

 

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

 

“If you wanted me to be safe, you should have killed me when you had the chance.” Regina said between bites. “The dead are safer than the living.”

 

“Uhm... about that.” Emma rubbed the back of her neck. “They want to kill you.”

 

Regina’s eyes widened, but she tried to remain impassive. “I would expect nothing less.”

 

“I’m not going to let you lay down and die. You need to get out of here. _We_ need to get out of here.” Emma reached forward to attempt to take the anti-magic cuff off her wrist, but Regina pulled her hand back.

 

“No. The only way I can survive this is if I’m compliant. If we run, they’ll find us, and they’ll kill us both. I can’t let that happen to you Emma. If I cooperate with them, I might have a fighting chance.”

 

“Regina _please_. They’re not thinking logically. They’re holding a trial right now where they’re dragging your name through the dirt without giving you the chance to defend yourself. For once accept that you’re worth fighting for.” Emma sat down beside her. “Don’t fight for me, fight for yourself. The real world is not about happy endings. It’s about taking the life you have, and fighting like hell to keep it.”

 

Regina’s eyes had been watering for quite some time, but she finally broke down and let them fall. “I don’t want to die.” She leaned into Emma’s shoulder. “I know the kingdom is calling for my head and I don’t blame them. But I don’t want to go out like this.”

 

“Then don’t. I know you’re not going to run, but plead your case, okay?”

 

“Alright. Listen to me Emma. I know everyone calls you the Savior and you want to be the one to save everyone, but if it comes down to it, save yourself.”

 

Emma nodded. “This is my fault, I’m sorry. I should have never come back.” The air around her tasted like regret made palpable. “I shouldn’t–”

 

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Regina took Emma’s hands in her own. “If you hadn’t come back there, I’d still be in that cave. Sad and alone, waiting out my days. You were a light in my darkest days. I don’t regret a single thing, and I would despair if you did. You were the best thing to happen to me.”

 

“That can’t be true.” Emma said, voice thick. “You might die.”

 

“Some people are worth dying for.” Regina’s chocolate-brown eyes glistened in the firelight.

 

“I wish you would let me save you. One more time.” Emma untangled her hands from Regina’s and stood up to leave. “I’m going to fight like hell to fix this. I’m going to ask one more time, do you want to come?”

 

Regina shook her head.

 

*     *     *

 

Emma tried, she begged, pleaded, and cried to her parents to change their mind. Her storming out of the room during the trial sealed Regina’s fate. Snow was convinced that Emma was still cursed, because why else would she be acting the way she was? Emma wanted to tell her the truth, wanted to scream it from the rooftops, but she wasn’t sure what it was that she was feeling. It was like when she was with Killian, but so different, so much… more. But that didn’t matter, Regina was going to die, and Emma was going to have to watch.

 

Snow didn’t make her carry out the execution herself, but they might as well have. Emma locked herself in her chambers for days, refusing to talk to anyone. She couldn’t bring herself to leave her room, not even to see Regina. Barely eating, barely sleeping, the grief was ravaging her. As she was pacing her room somewhere around day four, her mother’s voice called to her from the other side of the door.

 

“Emma?”

 

Emma didn’t answer, but she stopped pacing.

 

“We’ve come to a decision.”

 

Emma walked up to the door, pressing her hands up to the wood.

 

“The guillotine. At noon tomorrow.”

 

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel anything, but loss. Her mother’s footsteps retreated, getting quieter and quieter until it was only Emma, and the silence, and she collapsed.

 

Emma failed. She put her head in her hands, not moving, not feeling. ‘ _I should be crying’_ she thinks, but she can’t. She can’t bring herself to do anything but sit and wallow. Tomorrow will be the end of Regina’s life, and there’s nothing she can do about it.

 

*     *     *

 

Emma woke the next day, still on the floor. She had to tell Regina. She burst from her room in yesterday’s clothes, and made her way down to the dungeon. Regina was sleeping on the cot, her back to the door. She slept tightly wound, hands balled into fists beneath the threadbare pillow. She was at war, even in her sleep.

 

“Regina!” She whispered, her voice echoing. “Wake up.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Regina, they’re coming for you.”

 

“What?”

 

Emma didn’t have time to elaborate; a cavalcade of armor descended the stairs, booming voices drowning out her thoughts. She had just enough time to slip into the shadows, before one of the men entered Regina’s cell and started talking to her.

 

*     *     *

 

Regina pretended to be asleep, when a faceless man violently shook her.

 

“Come on, let’s go.” The gruff voice bellowed. She was disoriented, hungry, sleep-deprived, and had a raging headache pounding behind her eyes.

 

“Where are you taking me?”

 

“Come on _your Majesty_ ” the man said, “your throne awaits.”

 

Regina’s stomach dropped. This was it; her execution. Years ago, when she cast the curse, she thought she had won. Then, when Emma came into her life, she thought she'd finally earned her happiness. Now, here she was. Being marched toward her beckoning fate while being dragged from the life she had thought she earned. They say love is easy, natural. But what they don't tell you is that loving someone can get you killed. She looked back, catching a glimpse of Emma’s fair hair, before she was unceremoniously thrust up the stairs.

 

Regina was marched outside in front of what appeared to be the entire kingdom. She recognized a few faces, glaring at her from the stands and on the ground in the square, but most of the people were strangers to her. She stood on the platform, with the poise and composure of a queen, staring down the guillotine. It was better than being hanged, she supposed. More dignified.

 

After being locked up underground for over a week, the sun was hurting her skin. The dress she was captured in hung in rags off her shoulders. Her makeup was smudged, her hair lay dull and lifeless, but still, she held herself like she was the most well-dressed person there. Posture, her mother always told her, was self-respect. That was one thing Snow White and her Prince couldn’t take away from her.

 

*     *     *

 

Emma snuck in the back, and immediately locked eyes with Regina. It was a morning far too bright for the lack of light in her eyes. She somehow managed to command the attention of the entire square with her withering gaze. If looks could kill, everyone else would have died a slow and painful death by now.

 

Her mother, the _Queen_ , read out Regina’s crimes, ending with “and she cursed the heart of my daughter, our _savior_ , with malicious intent to infiltrate the kingdom.”

 

Regina shut her eyes, breathing deeply.

 

“If anyone feels like our ruling is unjust, or that the council as made a mistake, speak now, or hold your knowledge forever on your consciousness. Anyone who wishes to refute this execution, speak now.”

 

Regina locked eyes with Emma, and shook her head almost imperceptibly. “I do.”

 

Emma gasped. The crowd gasped. Everyone’s eyes were trained on Regina, the ‘Evil Queen,’ stripped of her finery, standing vulnerable in front of a crowd that was out for her blood.

 

Emma’s father turned to Regina. “What could you possibly say, Witch, that would change our minds?”

 

“David.” Snow murmured. “Everyone has the right to object... even the soon-to-be executed. Regina, you have the floor.”

 

“I know I’m being judged for my past. A past where I’ve caused pain, a past where I’ve inflicted misery, a past where I’ve… Even brought death. When I look back at everything I’ve done, I want you all to know what I feel. And that is… regret. I regret becoming the person I swore I’d never be. I regret darkening my heart, and darkening this kingdom. For so long I took something away from each and every one of you: love. And I know I don’t deserve it, but if this is to be my final hour... Emma Swan–” Regina looked only at Emma now, “I love you. I love you, and the only thing wrong with you is that maybe you love me back. I’m not afraid of death.” She tried taking deep breaths, but her lungs weren’t cooperating. “I’m just scared of losing you.”

 

The crowd was silent; even the birds had ceased their singing.

 

Regina looked downwards. “Don’t take this as the last-ditch effort of a dying woman. Take it as a deathbed confession. I couldn’t go on for the rest of my existence in Hell _knowing_ you didn’t know how I feel. That’s all I have to say.” Emma wasn’t there to see her look back up and try to find her. She was running. Running through the stands, pushing past everyone and everything in her way.

 

Regina took a steadying breath, she wasn’t going to cry, not in front of all these people. “Go ahead, executioner.” She fixed her steely gaze on the hooded figure.

 

The crowd was murmuring now. ‘ _The Evil Queen and the Savior?’_ was the sentence Emma could pick out the most clearly. She ran up to the platform that Regina, her parents, and the executioner were standing on.

 

“Stop!” Emma stood between Regina and the executioner.

 

“Emma!”

 

“This is madness. Regina, over the last few months I’ve really gotten to know you. The you that you hide from everyone else. The you that’s soft, and warm, and gentle. I swore I’d never love again, and by Gods the last person I should probably be loving is you. But what I’m feeling, I can’t ignore it anymore. I never dreamt that you would love me like I do you. But I do Regina, I do love you. I didn’t have a name for this feeling until quite recently, but that’s what it is. And I can’t stand by and watch you _die_ so mother, if you’re going to stand in front of me and order her execution, you’re going to have to kill me too. Because against all reason, I love her. And I can’t see her die, not now, not like this.”

 

A battle was waging within Emma. A battle between who she thought she was, and who she clearly is. She knows she shouldn’t love Regina, she knows it fucked up after what they’ve been through, but her heart was calling to Regina in a way she never experienced before. It was scary as hell, and part of her wanted nothing more than to run in the other direction and never stop running, but she couldn’t do that.

 

Emma stepped forward, taking Regina’s face in her own and kissed her. Something that felt like magic burst from between them, and Emma felt like she was breathing for the first time after holding her breath underwater. She felt light, and alive, and hopeful, all those things that her parents always told her love was like.

 

Everyone was speechless. No one in the square knew what to do. They all just saw Emma and Regina’s love laid out in front of them.

 

“Oh my Gods.” Snow broke the silence. “You... you weren’t lying?”

 

“No!” Emma and Regina answered at the same time.

 

“So... you didn’t curse my daughter?”

 

Regina rolled her eyes. “No, Snow. Magic can’t bring people back the dead, change the past, or make someone fall in love with you. Everybody knows that.” She turned to the rest of the townsfolk in the square. “Right?”

 

The crowd nodded, muttering their begrudged agreement.

 

“What about the execution?” Someone yelled from the crowd.

 

Emma pulled out her sword in one graceful move, pointing it in the direction of the offending voice. “What, yours?”

 

“Never mind.”

 

“That’s what I thought.” Emma said, re-sheathing her sword.

 

“So... what now?” Regina asked, pulling Emma closer.

 

“You’ll move in here, that’s what!” Snow squealed.

 

Regina’s eyes widened. “How about you start with lifting the banishment, hmm? I don’t want to impose.”

 

“You wouldn’t be an imposition!” Emma was dizzy from how quickly her mother’s attitude had changed. “You’re my daughter’s true love, there’s always room for you in our home.”

 

Emma felt her stomach fall to her feet, and beads of sweat forming on her forehead. “Okay whoa whoa, back up. True love?” She started stepping away. “That sounds _really_ serious.”

 

Regina flashed a look at Snow telling her ‘ _please Gods shut up_.’ She turned back to Emma, her face all openness and softness. “We kissed, and there was magic. That’s it. You don’t have to think about what anything means. I’m not going to move into the castle, at least not now. All that magic means is that I love you, and you love me, and we were meant to love each other. One step at a time, okay?”

 

Emma battled with this notion. She didn’t like that ‘fate’ had decided she was supposed to love Regina, but she couldn’t deny how she felt every time she looked at her. If that wasn’t love, she didn’t know what was.

 

She took Regina’s hands in her own, looking only at her. “Okay.”

 

“By Royal decree,” Snow announced to the crowd, “the banishment on Regina, the former Queen of the Enchanted Forest, is hereby lifted. She may enter and exit the Enchanted Forest as she pleases, and no purposeful harm shall come to her while within our borders.”

 

“I’ll make sure of that,” Emma smiled, playfully bumping Regina’s shoulder.

 

“My savior.”

 

*     *     *

 

Regina found herself in a sizable guest house on the White family grounds. She became the royal family’s official consultant on magical matters, and worked closely with the Royal Army, casting enchantments and protection spells around the castle to raise their defenses. When she and Emma weren’t working, they were spending time together, falling deeper and deeper in love. Regina finally got her horseback riding day. A few weeks after she had moved onto the property, Emma gifted her with a chestnut-brown horse that she named Allegra, and they took their horses into the fields, and rode, and rode, until the sun went down, and they kept riding. They were laughing and smiling, like they were little girls again. The darkness, it seemed, had finally lifted.

 

It turned out the legend was true. In order to break the curse, you had to kill the witch, but it wasn't in the way everyone thought. The witch was born out of hate, despair, and desperation, and what she needed was light. It's not as simple as a lost love that drove her to curse the kingdom, and it wasn't as simple as 'loving again' that broke the curse.

So Emma succeeded on her quest. She killed the witch, and saved Regina, all at once. Love could once again bloom amongst the inhabitants of the Enchanted Forest, without fear that their love would be cursed. As for the Witch and the Savior, much to their disbelief, they got their version of a happy ending.

 

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [ilovett](http://ilovett.tumblr.com/) or on twitter at [ilovettsq](https://twitter.com/ilovettsq) if you want to come say hi :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Witch of Varas [Cover Art]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8796997) by [rexinasofia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rexinasofia/pseuds/rexinasofia)




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